These Masks We Wear
by QueenMeep
Summary: Yet another ficlet set between AOTC and ROTS, Padmé and Anakin take a brief respite from the events erupting around them and reflect upon the masks they wear for the public and in private.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Star Wars and all associated characters, plotlines, and worlds (good and bad) are property and copyright © of George Lucas (aka The Richest Man in Hollywood). This is purely for fan entertainment only.

Summary: Yet another ficlet set between AOTC and ROTS, Padmé and Anakin take a brief respite from the events erupting around them and reflect upon the masks they wear for the public and in private.

Chapter 1

He smirked into the mirror, straightening his posture, pushing his shoulders back. His crystal blue eyes stared back at him, mirth flirting back. He ran his fingers through his hair one more time, playing with the spikes he had carefully crafted out of the mop of curls. He quirked an eyebrow, posing once more in the mirror.

Behind him, he heard an eruption of laughter. Obi-Wan clapped a hand on his shoulder, eyeing the display in the mirror. "What are you getting all dolled up for?"

Anakin smiled sheepishly, a blush rising up his neck and dotting his cheeks. He had no idea Obi-Wan was watching! "I'm getting ready for the masquerade ball." He reminded Obi-Wan, noting the other man's lack of formal attire. "Aren't you coming?"

His Master chuckled at this, "You've got to be kidding me. If my presence is not required, I'm not making an appearance. I hate political affairs-"

Anakin interrupted him, finishing, "Almost as much as you hate politicians themselves. Yes, yes, I know."

Obi-Wan shook his head warily at the younger man, "I don't understand why you're going in the first place."

A slow smile crept across Anakin's lips, "Padmé asked me to escort her."

Obi-Wan snorted, "Escort to a masquerade? What a ridiculous idea!"

Anakin shrugged elegantly, watching his reflection once more. "You're just jealous that she didn't ask you." He turned back to Obi-Wan and grinned. "So, how do I look?"

Obi-Wan took a step back, taking a moment to remember the occasion in which his Padawan took a moment to clean himself up and appear presentable. He corrected himself quickly- more than presentable, he was sure the ladies would appreciate the effort and his close fitting evening attire, the pants highlighting tight thighs. The attire thinly veiled his physical prowess, his strength. "It… works for you." He said softly, apprehension filling him that his Padawan was no longer a meager Padawan but a grown man and a Jedi Knight- another thing to get used to. _How fast they grow up…_ "But where is your mask?"

Anakin pulled it from the table by the mirror, holding it up for inspection. It was a simple white theatrical mask, but it helped complete the sophisticated look Obi-Wan suspected he was going for. "So? What do you think?" he eagerly sought confirmation.

Obi-Wan grinned, his heart touched that his opinion still mattered to the younger man. "You had best remind the ladies that you are not to form attachments as a Jedi."

The Jedi Knight's face lit up in laughter, his mind drawing to the reason he had placed so much effort on his appearance, and the other reason why he was not to form _other_ attachments: Padmé. Would she like it? "I'll be sure to remind them, Master." He teased with the last word.

His Master shook his head once more, "And do try to not stay out too late, Anakin, we still have to be at the Council in the morning." He hated to spoil the moment, but it had to be said.

As predicted, Anakin's expression fell, crestfallen. Obi-Wan half expected him to break out into a whine, ask, _Do we _have_ to?_ Instead, he straightened his shoulders once more, inclined his head, "I remember."

Obi-Wan watched his receding back, followed him to the door and wondered where the time had gone and where he had been when Anakin had grown up.

* * *

Her heart fluttered as she heard Dormé escort Anakin into her Senatorial apartment while she feigned preparing the last of her makeup. Every time she saw Anakin again she had to prepare herself for his grin to melt her resolve into puddles, for the last of her self control and will to find its way back into bed as if it had not wanted to get up to face the day.

She smoothed the gown automatically, checking her reflection in the mirror one last time, finally confident she had chosen the right attire, the right mask. The jeweled mask was tied with a silken ribbon to her loose hair, the curls laid across bare shoulders. Finally, she went to the living quarters to join Anakin.

Padmé had to take in her breath as she saw him, the perfect picture of elegance. A grin tugged at his lips as he met her eyes, white gloved fingers drawing her knuckles up for a kiss in greeting. "Good evening, Padmé." He murmured, his voice low.

She shivered involuntarily, her knees weak. "You'll never fool anyone with that grin, Anakin Skywalker." She admonished, trying to save her grace.

Anakin chuckled, laughter lighting his eyes. _Oh I could drown in those eyes…_ "Oh come now, surely you're the only one that notices that." He extended his arm to her.

Padmé shook her head, taking his offered arm. "No, my dear, I'm not so sure I'll be the only one to notice, tonight." She sighed, over-exaggerating the movement, "I'm positive I'll have to beat them back with my clutch once they see the sexy man escorting me." She teased.

He huffed up his chest, but teased back, "We don't have to go."

She imagined the ways they could spend the time instead, allowed her imagination to wonder at the different ways Anakin could find to remove the gown, which she had insured would not be too difficult, but reminded her errant imagination that she was expected by the social scene and her absence would be noted, no matter that no one was supposed to know who she was. "No, we do."

Anakin inclined his head, brought her hand up for another kiss, "As you wish."

* * *

Yes, another snippet! And this one is going to just revolve around the two of them, for the most part.

Just fun stuff, not sure how long it's going to be or how involved it will get.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Star Wars and all associated characters, plotlines, and worlds (good and bad) are property and copyright © of George Lucas (aka The Richest Man in Hollywood). This is purely for fan entertainment only.

Chapter 2

Upon arriving at the masquerade ball, they were immediately accosted by several guests, all of them eager to catch the first glimpse at which politician was wearing what costume, what mask. The gossip was already ripe before they set foot into the ballroom, as they were a tad more than fashionably late. Word seemed to follow them in as everyone immediately recognized Senator Amidala, but were incapable of figuring out who the dashing figure beside her was.

They heard the whispers, "Oh my, who is that!" or "My goodness, that man!" Anakin only gave Padmé a smug grin in response.

Padmé learned it was not easy to mingle with the Jedi Knight hovering at her side, and grew grateful for the chords strumming up with the next dance. Anakin seized the opportunity, recognizing it as a lovers' dance, the provocative longing throbbing through the rhythm. He drew her quickly to him, her cheek pressed against his own, his hand wrapping snugly about her hip.

They followed the fast pace, relishing the only dance in which it was not against propriety to embrace, to grasp, to feel. His breath rushed with hers, their movements mimicking the craving, the yearning, of the pulsating music. It was only when the last beat had died off that he released her from his hold, bringing a gloved hand to touch her chin, his blue eyes intensely holding her gaze.

He tilted his chin down, the music still echoing through his brain, thirsting for her lips. Her tongue darted out, moistening in anticipation. His face loomed towards hers but jerked back as sirens rang out. He shook his head, thinking at first it was in his imagination, a mental warning. Then, as she crinkled her eyebrows in wonder, he realized it was an actual physical alarm. "What's going on?" he asked, disoriented.

She grabbed his hand, leading him towards the throng of people streaming through the doors in the rear. "Fire alarm." Padmé explained, her fingers clasping his own.

The ballroom had evacuated into the streets of Coruscant. If he had not been part of the mess, he would have laughed from afar at the scene: it was pouring rain and the delicate costumes of many of the women were ruined. Instead, he found himself wishing wistfully for the cloak that he had been advised so many times of always wearing.

Padmé did not seem to mind as much, and was tilting her head back, letting the drops fall on her mask and bare forehead, the cool moisture soothing heated skin. She turned back to him, "Where did you learn to dance?"

He shrugged, blushing bashfully. "Obi-Wan taught me."

The beautiful Senator cocked an eyebrow, "Oh?"

Anakin grinned, taking her hand in his own once more. "Yes, it has been useful in diplomatic negotiations."

He let her imagination stew in the possibilities of the women he had shared dances with, particularly _that_ dance. _She's so cute when she's jealous._ She was about to snap a retort, but a handful of politicians approached. "Senator Amidala, an introdu…" one began, but trailed off as the couple disappeared into the guests.

Padmé laughed as they fled the scene and worked through the streets of Coruscant on foot, towards the Senatorial apartments. "I'm afraid that was the only way out of that one." She smiled an appreciation of his quick thinking.

Anakin shrugged, "One day, I'm going to be able to introduce _you_ as my wife, as I legally should." He caught her gaze, the intention clear as he remembered precisely what he enjoyed doing as her husband, echoed through the desire in the dance earlier.

She flushed, waiting eagerly for the turbolift in her building. As soon as they entered it and the doors closed them out of sight, he pressed her against the wall of the lift, his fingers seeking her chin once more. His lips came against hers immediately, seeking the sweetness of her tongue. Anakin's embrace did not end until the lift stopped finally on her floor.

As they fumbled through the door, masks were tossed away and the first few buttons of her gown were already taken out of tiny eyelets. Breathlessly, she felt wonder at the delicate machinations his lithe fingers were capable of, whether they were working on machines, her gown, or her flesh. Just the thought of it sent a shiver down her spine, which he took advantage of, moving his hot mouth to the delicate curve of her neck.

Anakin had started feasting upon her collar bone, edging the gown off of her shoulders, when he was interrupted by a low chime, his holocommunicator buzzing for his attention. He groaned loudly, frustration marking the lines of his face. "I could swear Obi-Wan pulled the fire alarms, I didn't see any fire. He's always interrupting everything." He fumbled with the small electronic, setting it on audio only. "What?" he barked.

"Your presence is requested at the Temple." His Master's all-too-cheerful voice rang out.

His nostrils flared and he took a deep breath before continuing, his eyes drawing painfully to the revealed skin at Padmé's neckline, his body aching in a reminder of the last time he had been able to delight in her soft skin. "Not now."

There was no pause, only the simple reminder, "They will never take the recommendation that you become a Master seriously if you do not heed their requests."

Anakin at once was torn between the two, ambition and lust flooding his mind. Blue eyes went again to her breast, watching it rise and fall with her breath. "What is it about?"

A chuckle. "It seems that the security at your ball apprehended two younglings who had thought it a fun prank to pull the fire alarms."

Irritation sparked. _That is the second time those two brats have interrupted my time with Padmé, tonight, then._ "I will be there, shortly." He replaced the communicator. All he had time for was a handful of kisses, and a heated whisper, "I'll be back soon."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Star Wars and all associated characters, plotlines, and worlds (good and bad) are property and copyright © of George Lucas (aka The Richest Man in Hollywood). This is purely for fan entertainment only.

Chapter 3

His irritation practically rolled off his body in waves by the time he had arrived at the Temple, his hair damp from the rain still falling heavily from the sky, the weather suiting his mood. Obi-Wan was waiting in the lobby and met him as he came in. "Thank you for coming." He said softly, walking with him towards the lift.

Anakin nodded absently, seeming to visibly calm down as time passed. "Who was it?"

Obi-Wan hid a grin, "Younglings Keine Ghinori and Rono Heinter."

The Knight blinked, "You're serious? Those are the two younglings that always snuck in on our sparring sessions."

His Master laughed, "Yes, those are the ones." His eyes crinkled, "I thought you might talk to them, yourself, perhaps give them an incentive to behave."

Anakin refrained from rolling his eyes, "I can do that. I remember the crush I once had on Padmé and I can share what I've learned with them."

Obi-Wan nodded, _my, how you've grown over the years._ "That would be excellent, Anakin. I'll arrange for a meditation room for the three of you to discuss the matter."

When they were brought to him, he watched as the two girls filed in, joining him meekly on the cushions of the dark room. He flexed his gloved mechanical hand, watching the fingers curl. "What reason do you two have for your behavior this evening?"

Keine ducked her head, examining her robes while Rono frowned, retorting, "What reason do you have for your own behavior?"

Anakin blinked, "Excuse me?"

Rono stared at him intently, "I saw the way you were acting with Senator Amidala- you know exactly what I mean."

He frowned, "There was no impropriety between the Senator and myself. You are once again out of line. Do not add on to your list of grievances." He paused, flexing the hand again, following its motions instead of giving in to the anger the two young ones were producing. "Now, I will ask you one last time, why did you pull the fire alarm and frighten many innocent civilians and force the fire department and security division to respond to a false alarm?"

Rono glared at him, boring angry holes into his head with her eyes. "You were about to _kiss_ her," she began. _How did she…?_ Before he could finish the train of thought, Keine finally spoke up. "Jealousy, sir."

Anakin allowed himself a small smile at the admission. "That attitude of cooperation will get you further. Jealousy of what?"

Rono sighed heavily, "It is already embarrassing enough to sit here with you, Master Skywalker. Jealousy of Senator Amidala."

He kept the smirk from playing at his lips. "Ah, but perhaps embarrassment is what you need after ruining the costumes of several high ranking officials and an entire ballroom worth of linens and food, all for an emotion that you have been taught since you were crechlings is to be discarded and avoided immediately." He silently added, _And ruined my evening with Padmé. Twice._ He rose, swishing his cloak about him, tucking his hands within the folds. "I am going to consult with Master Kenobi about the consequences of interrupting dignitaries for folly."

Outside the meditation room, he rejoined Obi-Wan. "And how did it go with the young ones?" the Jedi Master gestured to the room.

Anakin grinned, "Youth. And I have the perfect suggestion for teaching them the error of their ways."

Obi-Wan cocked an eyebrow, knowing where this was leading. "Oh?"

"A prescribed amount of meditation on the meaning of the word 'discipline' and the fallacy of 'jealousy'." Before Obi-Wan could laugh, he added, "And of course, crechling duty."

Obi-Wan's hearty laugh could be heard throughout the hallway and down to the Council chambers. "I should have known you would involve changing diapers! You've done your fair share!"

The twinkle in Anakin's eyes spoke of mischief to come. "Yes, I'm the master of crechling duty." His mood sobered. "However, I need to check on Senator Amidala and verify that she got home safely. I'm afraid I was a poor escort, leaving her like that, to get here." He looked back towards the younglings. "And I think it would set a better example of propriety if you called on her instead of me." _I need to lay low for a while if younglings are suspicious, _he added silently.

Obi-Wan blinked, surprised, "Anakin, you never cease to amaze me. Where have the years gone and what did you do with my Padawan?" he teased lightly.

Anakin shrugged, "Just get going before it gets too late to call your visit a social call and not an assignation. What would the younglings think?" He winked.

"Hah! As if anyone would believe that of _me_!"

The Jedi Master did keep that in mind, however, when he arrived at the Senatorial apartments and found a blushing Senator drawing a flimsy robe about herself modestly.

* * *

Jarlin Edge packed her holorecorder into a padded bag, satisfied with the latest report filed for her periodical, _Coruscant Encounters_. The fiasco that had erupted at the masquerade ball that evening had provided for very useful material- possibly the big break she had been waiting around for. She had already filed one report upon following the glamorous Senator Amidala. The Senator was always a hot seller when it came to holoreports, so the advertising was already selling for the morning's periodical. 

She headed toward Amidala's apartment building, sure that surveying the Nabooan would produce additional results. She grinned in anticipation, waiting for the public reaction to the snapshots she had taken of the illustrious Senator and her mystery guest. Until now, rumors circulated that the Senator was secretly having an affair with her bodyguard and Captain of security, Panaka.

All that would change when the people of Coruscant woke up and turned on their holos.

Jarlin propped up on a nearby rooftop, enhancing the view, finding the Senator's apartment. Sure enough, it did not take long before two figures emerged from the tower, communing on the veranda Jarlin had been studying.

The reporter snickered as she zoomed in on the loose, tousled hair flowing over a shimmer silk robe that flirted above the woman's knees. She moved her zoom to the man beside the scantily clad Senator, only to find the familiar cut of Jedi robes.

_Jedi Robes? What? Oh, this will be good._ She followed the robes to the man's broad shoulders, to auburn hair that was trimmed neatly around his face, a beard tracing his jaw.

Jarlin's own jaw dropped. Padmé Amidala was full of surprises. It was no surprise for a female politician to be seeing more than one man. It was shocking for one of those to be a Jedi, though the particular Jedi in question was quite worthy of a scandalous affair.

No, this went above and beyond a surprise, and she could not stop clicking shots of what she knew would knock even her last story out of the water.

She checked the viewfinder to verify that the holorecorder was catching every moment of the disheveled Senator and her Jedi visitor. Jarlin could still not believe her eyes.

A Jedi Master was having an affair with Senator Amidala. A Jedi Master who just so happened to have known the Senator for years. A Jedi Master who looks suspiciously like Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, who had been assigned to Amidala's security detail many times. It was the perfect cover story for illicit lovers.

A perfect career-making story for her.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Star Wars and all associated characters, plotlines, and worlds (good and bad) are property and copyright © of George Lucas (aka The Richest Man in Hollywood). This is purely for fan entertainment only.

Chapter 4

Anakin waited a while before stealing away from the Jedi Temple and towards the Senate apartments. While he did not want to cross paths with Obi-Wan, the heat of passion still boiled in his veins at the memory of his wife's touch and was only growing stronger. It was practically throbbing through him the nearer he drew, images of her writhing under his touch flashing through his mind. A grin caught his lips as he realized she might be waiting rather impatiently for him.

He let himself in and found the apartment dark; the handmaidens already gone to bed and he suspected their mistress had done the same. He paused, reaching out in the Force to determine whether she was still awake or if the evening had set her in a similar state. As he found her Force signature, a wave of passion rolled over him, settling in his groin as liquid heat.

His jaw dropped, wiping the smirk from his face. _So you couldn't wait, either, my sexy little wife?_ Anakin sunk through the shadows, using every stealth technique he could think of so as not to disturb her. The darkness of her room was adequate to stand back and wait as her muffled moans filtered to his ears. He knew there would be few opportunities to watch as his Padmé brought herself to her own climax, her fingers deftly teasing as his might. Slowly he disrobed, peeling away gloves and tunics to be ready to join her.

She shifted on the bed, reaching towards the bedside table. The movement caused the silky robe to slip further down her shoulder, revealing her cleavage and the ridiculous slip she still wore. Her fingers found what she wanted, grasping a tiny plastic egg, switching it to a vibrating mode.

Anakin took the chance and moved to her, grabbing her wrist to prevent her from using the device, seizing her mouth to capture her cry. As she recognized him, her cry changed to a moan; her arms pulled him closer. Finally he broke free, whispering in her ear, "Let me do that." He shut the device off, tossing it to the side. Her smile was enough to undo him and he ravished her mouth once more.

She laid back as he pressed closer, his flesh hand tracing circles around her hips. They rose in anticipation, eager for his touch. His hot mouth trailed down her jaw and danced about her lips and she groaned, her fingers following the long line of his muscular back and finding his backside. "Stop teasing me, Anakin. I need you."

He nodded, pushing the thin robe away and finding the nub of a pebbled nipple underneath the slip. She grabbed his ass, pulling him closer. He grinned at her urgency, sinking to the bed beside her. Before she could protest, he pulled her atop him, bringing her mouth closer for another kiss. "I'll let you have your way."

Padmé did not waste time, dragging her clit over his member, hardening him further and eliciting a cry from both. As she enjoyed herself, he yanked the slip over her head, sinking his hands in her hair. They tangled in the curls as she drew herself down, sinking his hard cock within.

He groaned as she rocked her hips, adjusting herself around him. His mechanical hand remained in her hair as his flesh hand settled on her hips, guiding her motions. Anakin watched as her face lit up in rapture, waves of passion claiming her. His fingers tightened about her hip as the hot wetness of her clasped tighter about him, her climax settling over her.

Anakin pulled her closer, his tongue seeking hers as she cried into his mouth, her hips grinding into his own, her orgasm flowing through her. Sated, she collapsed upon him, her cheek pressing against his damp shoulders as his cock still twitched within, needing her. Not wanting to spoil her mood, he whispered into her hair, "Are you ready for me?" she nodded weakly.

Gently, he laid her back down within the pillows, kissing her once more as he drove back inside her. He coaxed another orgasm from her as he rode her, finding the pace she had favored. But as she clasped her legs about him, he lost control, his own release rocketing through him, sending white stars through his field of vision.

Anakin rolled over, nuzzling against her shoulder as she stroked his forehead, her fingers resting in his curls. "I love you." He murmured as he finally relaxed, sinking into the lavish padding and soft covers. It was the moment he had waited for and as it would end in a few short hours, he grabbed on to it and welcomed it into his dreams.

* * *

The next morning came as quickly as he had predicted, sunlight filtering in through the shades on the broad windows. He propped himself up on an elbow, watching Padmé pace restlessly as she worked on the buttons of a heavy corset, already preparing for the day. Before rising, he breathed in deeply, smelling the rich scent of the kafe percolating in the kitchen and listening to the gentle lull of the holo in the next room.

His fingers replaced her own and he quickly finished her task, his lips tickling her neck. She sighed softly. "I didn't want to wake you." She turned her head to meet his kiss.

Anakin shook his head, taking in the sight of her corset, wishing he was not required to aid her dressing instead of watching her skirts fall to the floor one last time. "I need to help you," he protested. The few mornings that he lingered hampered her ability to use her handmaidens to don the elaborate attire her position required.

"No, I can do it. You have to get back to the Council, either way. Obi-Wan mentioned that you had a meeting with them." She pulled another layer on, waiting patiently as Anakin fastened her.

He smirked, looking toward the shimmersilk slip on the floor. "Were you wearing that when he came by?" he teased, enjoying the blush that crept up her face.

"Yes. I was waiting for you." She giggled, "I suppose that's why the gossip on the holo this morning is that I am having an affair with your Master."

Alarm marred his features, "You jest. What exactly are they saying?"

She caught his hand, pulled him toward the living area where the holo was still running feeds of the night prior. Currently, it showed a clip of Padmé caught in his embrace on the dance floor. The camera zoomed in, Anakin's curls tangled in his wife's fingers as his face lingered near her own. He paled as the narrator commented, "The only fire in the ballroom last night was between that of Senator Amidala and her mysterious lover."

The scene changed to that of Padmé's balcony, where Padmé and his Master were seated. Her robe was drawn tightly about her and Obi-Wan had his hand drawn to his face, which Anakin knew he had a bad habit of doing when he was uncomfortable with the situation. The narrator compounded, "A lover that could be Master Obi-Wan Kenobi of the Jedi Council."

Padmé burst into laughter, running her fingers through Anakin's curls. "Since when does Obi-Wan have blond curls?"

Anakin shook his head, grabbing her hand. "This is serious, Padmé. We need to be more careful. What if that was me on the balcony?"

She walked back to her room, finding an ear fob. Her eyes trained on the mirror. "No one takes the gossip columns seriously, Anakin." She fastened the other fob to her ear. "It just means we can't enjoy the balcony any more."

He frowned. "It also means I'm going to have a harder time leaving this morning. They're watching your apartment." He met her eyes in the mirror, "This would not be happening if I could rightfully claim you as my wife."

Padmé whirled on her heel, covering his mouth. "Anakin, don't talk like that. You know it's not possible. And aside from that, it would still happen. The gossip writers look for infidelity as well."

The line of his mouth remained hard. "Obi-Wan would never be here when I was away, were we to live together. Unless, of course, you really were having an affair with him."

She frowned, "Stop that! Anakin, you know that would never happen."

"Do I?" he challenged.

She turned away. "I love you. I thought you knew that."

Anakin softened and drew her into his arms. "I'm sorry, Padmé. This is just hard for me."

Padmé nodded, "And for me." She looked at the chrono on the bedside table, sighing. "And you had best get dressed and head down to the Council. As much as I enjoy looking at your backside, that would _definitely_ make the gossip shows."

It was his turn to blush.

* * *

This is unbeta'd, but I wanted to give my beta a break (as this is half smut) and a surprise. ;)

I DO intend on finishing this, if Darth Real Life will ever give me a chance!

Reviews are love. It was a review that prompted me to hurry up and write this chapter.


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